My Journey with Triple Positive Breast Cancer

  No, I haven't just lost my mind, that happened a long time ago. 😊 In the past, I've heard people with health challenges complain that being ill is like having a part-time job. Ditto for having cancer. In the past week, I've had 3 appointments, and I have 2 more tomorrow.  Shortly after my ICU stay debacle, I received a call from Dr. Ritchie, a hematologist. My surgeon, Dr. Olson, suggested that speaking with the head of the Bleeding Disorder Clinic at the  Kaye Edmonton Clinic  might be a good idea and arranged the appointment, which was done over the phone. I had undergone a plethora of testing prior to my surgery, but apparently not at the right lab. (I never knew that a snort of disdain could be so eloquent. I've been practicing, but I have a way to go before I reach Dr. Ritchie's level of expertise in dissing things with a bodily noise.😊 ) So I marched off to the basement of the Kaye Clinic where they proceeded to drain me. Well, so it felt.  13 vials la...

Frost on the lawn! Today is Day 11 of my second TCH chemo infusion, which means it was given on Monday, September 12. I was warned that some of the side effects can be cumulative, and given my nasty reaction to the first infusion, I admit to feeling some trepidation. The infusion itself went very smoothly, though I'd prefer they find a different vein. (I can't help it that my cephalic vein was quite literally winking at the nurse, "Pick me! Pick me!  Please...no one ever wants to use me!" 🙋) Some of the side effects are exactly as anticipated, though perhaps better managed this time around.  The muscle spasms and pain, in particular, were much more tolerable, provided I took my medication (morphine, Robaxin, and Extra Strength Tylenol) as prescribed, something not as easily achieved as one would think. I've taken to setting an alarm for every. single. medication. dosage. Sad...when I think of the academic honors I received in school...😁 Honestly, these days I co...

Like an annoying mosquito who won't leave you alone, these thoughts needed out, apparently, as a poem. 😜 'Twas the night before chemo, and all over the farm,  Heather was buzzing, raising alarm! "Get down from that apple tree, you're going to fall!"  "Yes, there are clothes in the hamper, you can't wash them all!" The family watched as she worked up a tizzy. "Heather slow down, you're making me dizzy!!" "I will, just a second, you see I just have to…" Her list was ever-changing, each moment something new. The bedding is washed, the towels as well,  There are items in the hamper, but please, please don't tell. 😖 The bathroom's been scrubbed, the kitchen is gleaming, Never mind that the rest of the family all feel like screaming. 🤷🏼‍♀️ The 5 fresh lasagnas have already been frozen, The 8 zucchini loaves dispersed to "The Chosen," The 4 pounds of ground beef are ready for meals, The 3 jars of Pic...

  So I shaved my head on Tuesday night. 😖 Yes, it was hard and yes, I cried. I did it outside, deliberately allowing the hair to fall to the ground with hopes that some animal could make use of it. (As long as it's not a mouse in my house! 🐀) Thankfully, I was expecting the "Great Fallout," though I'm not sure that made it a whole lot easier. Honestly, I would have been a bit ticked if my hair hadn't fallen out and I'd cut off my beautiful locks in vain! But no, docetaxel makes your hair fall out. Period. I'm glad my hair was already much shorter and my husband is even more delighted. He lovingly cleaned up the "scene of the crime" which happened to be the bathtub where I was enjoying a soak until I wasn't. I didn't have much warning. Yes, I'd noticed an increase in shedding, but running my hands through my hair (something I did frequently) didn't result in "hair gloves." So now, despite cutting Stefan'...